


Four Neals

by Sonia



Category: White Collar
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonia/pseuds/Sonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is being tortured by too many Neals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Neals

Title: Four Neals.  
Author: Sonia  
Rating: G  
Fandom: White Collar  
Summary: Peter is being tortured by too many Neals  
Pairing: Peter/Neal (mention of Elizabeth)  
Spoilers: None  
Warnings: None  
Disclaimer: Not Jeff Eastin. No, not me.

Thanks to Elrhiarhodan and her Prompfest friends for the prompt "Peter - Hurt"

 

Four Neals  
By  
Sonia

 

Neal sat at his friend’s bedside quietly reading his new copy of ArtReview, when he hears the familiar low moan of his waking.

Putting the magazine down, he stood and hovered over him, sweeping his hand thru the agent’s short hair. Since they were alone, the younger man took the risk and planted a gentle kiss on his lover’s forehead.

Peter’s eyes squinted, his face became pinched and pale and Neal was at the ready immediately.

“Peter, roll towards me. Come on.” As Neal pulled and pushed Peter onto his side, Neal encircled his arm around Peter’s waist, holding him in place while he held the emesis bowl in position.

Peter took a couple of deep breaths but nothing happened. He cracked an eye open for a second and whispered, “I’m OK. Let me go.”

Neal put the bowl down and spent the next few minutes helping Peter get comfortable on the bed again. The next time Peter dared to up his eyes, he regretted it. There were four Neals in his hospital room, all of which were smirking at him.

Peter groaned. “Neal, please, don’t fuck with me now. My head feels like it’s about to explode.” Sitting back down in his chair, Neal leaned forward and kissed Peter’s hand softly.

“I’m just here to help, Peter. You have a serious concussion and I’m worried about you.”

Risking the movement, Peter turned his head to look at his tormentor. “Bullshit. You are a spawn of Lucifer. You did this to me and I’ll hate you till I die, which I hope is soon.”

Neal smiled at him with real warmth. Then Peter saw the usual sparkle of mischief return to the big blue orbs.

“I don’t know if you remember what took place before your head injury, so I’ll remind you. Whose idea was it to try and teach me how to play basketball? Yours. Who said, “After all, I know you’re good at handling balls.” You did. It was also your idea to have your balls “handled” right there in the gym. It’s not my fault you didn’t stick your dismount and hit your head on the parquet floor. I was just the loving, accommodating partner I always try to be.”

“Oh God, please stop talking. Where’s El?” Peter asked.

“Writing a letter to ManTales, this is too good to keep to herself.”

This poke caused Peter to lift his head off the pillow suddenly. The stab of pain the action brought on was blinding. Neal hopped up from his chair.

“Peter, Peter, I’m sorry. Come on, I’m just teasing you, she’s out getting lunch. Try and relax.” Neal rubbed the hand he was holding in a calming circular motion with his thumb.

After he took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths, Peter fixed all four floating Neals with the best angry stare he could manage, which, of course, made him look slightly cross eyed. This, of course, amused the hell out of the one real Neal. Now stroking the arm of his lover, Neal offered, “If you are a nice Federal Agent and lie here quietly, I’ll tell you the story I came up with to cover for this.”

Peter closed his eyes and retorted, “It better not involve us having sex on a basketball court.”

“First a question, are you old enough to have been involved in the US invasion of Grenada?”


End file.
